


Stress-Free Environment

by crality



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, Blindfolds, Daddy Kink, Flogging, Kink Negotiation, M/M, micheoff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-15
Updated: 2015-03-15
Packaged: 2018-03-18 01:57:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3551774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crality/pseuds/crality
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael is so tightly-wound lately that he's turning work days into half days. Worried that his boyfriend will soon blow his last gasket, Geoff gives him a night of stress relief the only way he knows how.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stress-Free Environment

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Micheoff](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Micheoff/gifts).



> This was based on a fic ask sent to the super lovely and ever inspiring [teammuchrespect](http://teammuchrespect.tumblr.com/post/111785380483/so-lets-picture-michael-blindfolded-handcuffed). It's a very late birthday present!! Thank you for being you, my love, never change. <333

Some kind of mood has laid itself over the office. Filming has gone quiet and too tense after too many fights, all endlessly perpetuated by Michael’s testy mood. Frustrated and sick of hearing Gavin’s squawking every time he’s swiftly taken down by Michael’s sword, Geoff calls off the day with a barked order. The boys all three jump, but Ryan seems immediately relieved and is up and out of the room with a heavy sigh.

“What the fuck, Geoff? We were getting in the groove.” Michael spins around in his seat, controller pressed between his knees as he puts on his most indignant expression. Geoff wheels around to meet him, unimpressed.

“Don’t dick with me, buddy. Take your afternoon off and get that stick out of your ass.” Geoff doesn’t wanna hear the rest of Michael’s protest. He lifts to his feet, hand carding through his mess of hair as he starts toward the door. He needs to cool down, he needs to settle the blood pumping hard through his head. He needs a god damn drink. When Michael hops up to follow, Ray takes off past both of them to catch up with Ryan.

“Good luck.” He mutters as he gives Michael a glance, booking it out the door and down the hall. Geoff turns on his heel, catching Michael off guard.

“What?”

“Jesus, Geoff, did you steal my stick? Let’s finish this thing.” Michael looks tight. Wound up, his shoulders lifted and his jaw wobbling with pressure. Geoff looks him over, taking in the eyebrows pinched together and the fists at his sides and the way his toes are scrunched up inside his shoes. “Can you stop checking me out and talk to me?” Michael’s voice is getting close to the whining pitch Geoff has mostly heard late at night. He takes a step toward the larger man, as if he might challenge him. That’s new to Geoff.

“Michael, stand down. Pack your shit, let’s just go home.” The situation explodes as Michael turns back and goes to his desk, flinging his chair out of the way to grab his phone and shove it in his pocket. He ends his capture, turns off his mic, turns off his monitor all with vinegar, shooting glares at Gavin, who can’t stop himself from leaning a smile into his hand.

“Shut the fuck up,” Michael snaps at Gavin, slamming his chair into his desk as he slings his backpack on to one shoulder.

“Hey! I’m not the one who’s putting you in time out!” Gavin retorts, and he’s immediately shushed by Jack from across the room. He quiets down, going to work on shutting his own computer down.

Michael is storming past Geoff, shoving his way past the crowd of working people in the animation department. His face is flushed, his feelings hurt. Embarrassed. How dare Geoff treat him like a little kid in front of everyone? His backpack feels heavy on his shoulder, and he heaves it up as he pushes through the door to the parking lot. The sun blinds him and despite wanting to barrel to his car, he has to pause to squint and regain his bearings.

The door opens behind him and Michael knows, he just knows, it’s Geoff. A hand lays on his shoulder and he doesn’t move to knock it away. In fact, even Michael is surprised to find himself sinking under the pressure. His back goes loose and a sigh escapes him as he turns his head to meet Geoff’s worried gaze.

“Buddy.” Geoff breathes, and Michael shakes his head a little, an apology on the tip of his tongue. “Don’t, baby. Just tell me what’s up.” A calloused thumb brushes the excess of curls from Michael’s forehead. They aren’t usually so public, aren’t usually so tender in the middle of the parking lot where anyone could walk by. But Geoff can feel the stress radiating off of the boy - he needs to help him, to get to the root of this before something like this happens again.

“I’m just-...” Michael starts, and he shrugs his loose backpack strap up onto his other shoulder and tries to start toward his car. Geoff follows, right at his side, hands in his pockets as he listens. “I’m just, I don’t know, filled up. I’ve got at least five projects happening at once, I’ve got vocal training, weight training, acting coaches, I’ve got Gavin fucking jabbering to me all day and I’ve got YOU up my ass.” Michael pauses to smirk, leaning a hip on his car as he turns to Geoff. “Literally and figuratively.” 

Geoff suppresses his own smile, faking a glare at Michael from under eyelashes. “So I’m the stick?”

Michael barks a quick laugh, searching for his keys in his pocket. “Yeah. Guess so.” Everything points toward leaving, toward heading home and cracking open a beer and vegging out for hours until bedtime. But this little moment, with Geoff shuffling in front of him, gives him pause. “Well. Thanks for listening.”

Geoff hums, nodding absently. Something else is on his mind as he takes his time to steal a step toward the sedan and lean onto it, his head tilted. When he looks Michael over this time, it’s like he does when they’re alone. He soaks up Michael’s twitching nose, his long fingers curled up around his keys, his hip still leaned up against the car, the skin his backpack has revealed by hiking up his shirt.

“Uhhh, _are_ you listening?” Michael laughs, jingling his keys in front of Geoff’s face to wake him up. “Earth to Geoffrey.”

“Sorry, yeah, I…” Geoff perks up, shaking off the daze. “Michael? Do you trust me?” Geoff’s gaze is heavy-lidded as always, his lower lip puckered out as he pouts at his dumb, wound up boyfriend. Michael’s sputtering, and fondness rinses Geoff’s face of his worry. “What the hell, buddy? This should be yes or no!”

“Yes!” Michael blurts out, laughter spilling out with it. “Yes, Geoff, yes.” The question is so ridiculous that Michael can’t stop laughing between his rambling now that he’s started. “I’m, like, I’m sorry I freaked out. I trust you. I do. I’m just… I’m just stressed out.”

“Alright, alright.” Geoff shushes, leaning forward and taking Michael’s cheek into one hand. He presses a kiss onto his forehead, his nose, his lips. “Come over tonight, yeah? Let me destress you. We’ll do something… special.” Geoff’s voice has lowered so Michael feels a bubble of heat in his stomach. He nods into Geoff’s hand, eyes closed and lips still parted until he leans back in to take a few more quick kisses. “Good.” Their foreheads are pressed together, Geoff’s fingertips press behind Michael’s jaw as they stand there healing whatever they’d ripped open earlier.

“Get a room!” Michael and Geoff shoot apart, Geoff busying himself with searching for his keys and Michael standing on his tippy toes as he scans the parking lot for that stupid British asshole. “I was only joking, Jack!” Michael spots him just as Jack is waving an apology, shutting Gavin’s car door behind him.

“Didn’t mean to interrupt!” Jack quips, his style of ribbing a little easier for Michael to handle. He watches his friend nod them goodbye and skirt around his car, sliding in and obviously chastising his little passenger punk. Michael lets them drive away before he turns back to Geoff, who has his keys in one hand and happens to be scanning Michael’s body with an affectionate, hungry gaze.

“Can I help you?” Michael asks, craning his head to catch Geoff’s eyes with his own. “You’ve got a one track mind today.”

Geoff breathes back to life, laughing. A hand ruffles Michael’s curls mischievously and he leans in close as he starts small steps away. “See you tonight. I’ve got ideas, I’ll text you.” With a quick peck to the cheek, Geoff is striding away toward his car. Michael stares, left wondering what the fuck that meant.

\--

Michael’s phone buzzes five times over the next four hours and by text number six, he’s practically trained to drool. He leaps for his phone on the counter of his little apartment, scrambling into the bar chair to unlock it swiftly. So far he’s gotten a picture of a blindfold, a gag, leather cuffs, ear plugs?, and a what looks like a metal bar with cuffs on the side. Michael isn’t exactly well-versed in kink, but every text has left him groaning and wondering what Geoff has in store for the night.

This one has a message before it. _Eat something small, drink lots of water. See you at eight._ The picture, Michael quickly recognizes, is of something called a flogger. He pinches and pulls at his screen to get a better look at it - it’s something they’d talked about months ago. Fleeting and for fun. He should have known Geoff would remember.

The remainder of Michael’s free time is spent chowing down on a sandwich with a fried egg in the bread, showering profusely, and using an incognito window to google pictures of subs post-flogging. He sits on the edge of his couch, tabbing through photos on his laptop and slowly growing warmer and warmer in his cheeks before his phone buzzes next to him.

“Hey,” he answers as casually as possible, and Geoff’s voice is ringing excitedly in his ear.

“Hey baby! You comin’?”

“Uh, yeah? I’m leaving in a minute.” Michael can’t take his eyes off one photo, his shoulders tense from leaning onto his knees for too long. Or maybe from preparing for a blow Geoff hasn’t delivered, yet. He’ll decide later.

“Well, come on!” Geoff sounds absolutely delighted, which makes Michael’s expectation for himself shoot through the roof. What if he’s terrible at this? What if he safewords out and leaves Geoff wishing for more? Or worse, what if he hates it? God, Michael can just see himself bitching and bitching at Geoff, uncontrolled distaste flowing out of him. And Geoff, who’s trying so hard to help him, disappointed and - well - flaccid. “Baby? You with me?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m with you. I’ll be there in ten, see you soon.” Michael hangs up, shuts his laptop, and takes a deep breath. Before he stands up he reaches for his glass of water and finishes it off, chugging it down to try to chill the fire that’s been slowly stoking itself inside of him. He pauses there, empty glass trembling with the pressure his hand is exerting. “Fuck.” He whispers, tossing the cup into the sink and grabbing his coat before he’s gone.

\--

Michael knocks on Geoff’s door even though it’s open. He hears his boyfriend call from the couch and takes a steadying breath before pushing through into the hall.

“Hey!” Geoff pops up, rushing to meet Michael at the door. He strips the coat off of his shoulders, taking a quick survey of the boy’s posture before hanging his jacket up on the rack. “You feelin’ better, yet?” Geoff watches Michael hem and haw, watches him shift from foot to foot. The answer is pretty clear even as Michael twists his lips to the side and nods, slow and contemplative.

“I guess so.”

“Mhm, yeahhh,” Geoff laughs, stroking back Michael’s curls and pressing kisses to his forehead. “I can totally tell.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Michael quips and Geoff just laughs again, through his nose and sick with affection. “So are we doing this or what?”

“Not like that, we aren’t.” Geoff taps Michael’s nose with his finger and takes his hand, guiding him down the hall and through the familiar path to the bedroom. There’s a little tug between them, and Geoff squeezes Michael’s fingers in what he hopes is a comfort. He’s used to Michael being chirpy and enthusiastic as they walk, but today he’s stony and his palm is sweating in Geoff’s. He lets himself be led, and Geoff feels him shake his arm a little bit, trying to loosen his shoulders. 

They reach the bedroom and everything is set out on the sheets in a row. It’s blatant and straightforward, which eases Michael’s nerves as he’s sat down on the end of the bed. Geoff runs a hand over the side of Michael’s head, eyeing him curiously as the boy twists to look at the tools laid out for them to use.

“Here, let me walk you through it.” Geoff climbs into the bed behind Michael, tilting him onto his chest and feeling the tension in his back and his neck. “Let me know if anything seems like too much, okay, baby boy?” Michael hums, trying his hardest to relax as he watches Geoff’s tattooed fingers trace patterns on his arm. His attention shifts as Geoff does, reaching for the blindfold first.

“I know what a blindfold does.” Michael mutters, and Geoff shushes the baby, who melts a little under the order.

“So testy.” Michael smiles and buries his face into Geoff’s shoulder, curling his legs up onto the bed. “Just listen. First I’m going to blindfold you, so you don’t have to worry about watching anything else. You don’t have to worry about what you look like, you just trust that I think you’re beautiful.” Geoff sets the blindfold to the side, picking up the handcuffs next. They’re white leather and nice - heavy. Michael’s used to cheap ones, sometimes even fluffy and pink. Geoff’s spent real money on these. “These are next, you’re familiar, huh?” Michael nods. “But these are a little thick, they’re different from what you know, so I want you to get used to how they feel. And then this,” Geoff sets the cuffs down and picks up the bar that Michael has wanted to ask him about all night. “is a spreader bar. We’ve never used one, but I think you’ll like it. It’s next for the same reasons, so you can get comfortable. These go on your ankles.” Michael squints at the cuffs on either side of the black metal. They’re the same pristine white leather, unused and pretty. He swallows hard, shifting closer to Geoff as the man sets the toy aside and picks up the ear plugs.

“I was wondering about those.” Michael says and Geoff recognizes the tightness and high pitch of his voice. It’s the voice he gets when he’s sinking in, getting comfortable, feeling more and more like Geoff’s baby boy.

“Mhm, we’ll see if you like them. I know you like to hear me talk, huh?” Michael nods, pink flushing to his cheeks. Geoff’s filthy mouth is one of his favorite things to pass the time thinking of, and he wonders if missing it will really help with this de-stress exercise. “But we’ll try it. I thought maybe it’d help you let go. We’ll see, though. Now this,” Geoff picks up the ball gag with the same hand, dropping the earplugs. “You need.”

Michael scoffs, sitting up a little and eyeing Geoff. 

“How in the fuck are you even going to be offended by that statement, Michael?” They stare at each other for a moment, before Michael dips his head and laughs, nodding.

“I guess you’re right.” He takes the gag from Geoff, shuffling off of the man’s lap and sitting on his feet. “Won’t I drool?”

“Oh, yes.”

“Jesus.” Michael looks around at everything one by one, picking each item up and turning it over in his hands. He pauses at the blindfold, the nerves tumbling in his stomach. He knows he’s feeling little, feeling like a child ready to be punished, but there’s still plenty of room for the big boy anxiety to creep up. He remembers his questions from before and now, despite the comfort of knowing every step, he reruns them over and over. “Where’s the, um… the… whip thingy?”

“Flogger.” Geoff corrects as he gets to his feet and grabs something from the desk in the corner. Michael silently chastises himself for forgetting the proper term. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted to see it beforehand or not.” Michael’s all moonlit eyes and open lips, though, watching the strips of leather dangle from the handle. Geoff taps the handle over one hand twice and Michael sits at attention, setting the blindfold to the side. “So, you ready, buddy?”

“I think so.” Michael takes one more look around, and then his eyes meet Geoff’s and he swallows all the questions. He trusts this man. He’s trusted him with his job, with his life, with his very being. He can trust him with this. “Yeah. I’m ready.”

Geoff’s by his side after a moment of quiet appreciation. He kisses Michael’s temple, squeezing his shoulder. “Baby, I’ll check in with you the whole way. If you need out, just squeeze, okay? Like this.” He squeezes the boy’s shoulder again, harder this time, with obvious intent. Michael nods, and Geoff leans away to clear the bed of everything they’d put to use tonight.

When he returns to Michael his affection is multiplied by passion. He’s immediately scraping teeth over the boy’s full lower lip, his hands diving over his body and lifting his shirt over his head. Michael’s thankful for the sudden familiarity of a hungry, horny boyfriend. He’s used to that. He sinks back onto the bed, pushing back with his heels as Geoff follows and puts a knee on either side of his hips.

Michael needs this. He reminds himself over and over that the apprehension is just stage fright, the same nerves he gets before filming, the same nerves he gets before stepping foot in front of a camera. He wants to impress Geoff, who knows what he’s doing, who has de-stressed lovers before him. He drags Geoff’s shirt off of his body, savoring the fact that the strength he’s revealed, the art and the power, is all his. As Geoff pins him down, his hands over his head, Michael starts to take deep breaths to wash out all the spiralled thinking. He closes his eyes and Geoff’s lips are on his, and then on his neck, his chest, his hips. He’s still holding his wrists, taking them with him the lower he goes, until he has to let them go to unbuckle his belt and his jeans. Michael’s bare before he knows it, semi-hard and longing for that blindfold.

Geoff’s hand finds Michael’s cock and presses it up against his stomach. He takes a moment to admire his boyfriend, to run his tongue up from balls to tip, to stroke him slow and thorough until he’s shivering and so hard that he’s bucking into the touch.

“Okay, baby, turn around.” Michael’s quick to oblige, spread out on his tummy with his hands on the pillows. Geoff presses fingers into the cushion of his ass, up the small of his back and all the way to his shoulders. He lays a path of kisses up his spine, through his curls and onto his ear. “You’re doing so good, already.”

Michael sighs into the sheets, unable to keep his smile down. He lets Geoff adjust him up onto his knees, move his wrists to the small of his back. And then his hands are gone and Michael glances around for Geoff, finding him at his side. Geoff pets back curls, and Michael spies on the blindfold in his hand. Now that it’s starting, he just wants to get going. He’s tired of waiting, of being on edge.

Michael nods a little in response to Geoff’s unasked question, and then he’s in the dark.

The sensation is already calming. He’s suddenly unaware of his ass in the air, of the way Geoff’s affection is tinted with worry. He doesn’t _have_ to worry anymore, and as Geoff carefully secures his hands behind his back, he doesn’t feel any need to squeeze his way out. When Geoff pulls away to find the next step, Michael takes the time to gather himself. He presses his face into the bed as he lets the images he’d been surfing flutter through him - what else is he supposed to look at? He pictures the bruises and the bright red lines, the tears in eyes and the open mouths. He wonders if he’ll be able to think of anything but the slap of leather on his ass, and decides that must be the point.

Geoff is fastening the straps on Michael’s ankles nows, and the boy takes a deep breath at the very open, exposed feeling of being spread out. He tests the restraints instinctively, tugging his ankles apart and then together, unable to move them more than a few inches. He doesn’t even try his knees, accepting the position and settling in. It feels good. He doesn’t have to move, to switch around and hope he still looks nice.

He can hear Geoff moving and it’s a comfort, so he already knows how he’ll feel about the next step. Geoff sits on the bed to tuck back Michael’s curls, to carefully place each plug in until everything is muffled and all Michael can hear is his his steady, echoing breath. He arches his back, twisting his face in discomfort as he clenches the air for Geoff’s hand. He needs to squeeze.

“Geoff!” He calls out, his voice sounding small inside of his head. He wants to hear him, he needs to hear him, and the shuddering noises of his breath start to scare him. 

Everything floods back to normal as Geoff tugs the earplugs out of Michael, his hand rubbing a tight circle between his shoulderblades. He leans down to kiss at Michael’s temples again, and the tension slowly wilts out of the boy. 

“Okay, baby, I’m sorry. I guess now we know, huh?” Geoff smiles as Michael nods to nowhere, unable to see who he’s agreeing with. He pulls back Michael’s curls, fingers sending calm straight into him. “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay.” Michael returns immediately. He just needs Geoff’s voice, needs to know he’s not alone. Everything seems easy now that he knows the crushing quiet - he’s ready to do anything. Except that. Except be alone. “I really am, I’m okay. Keep going.”

“Okay, baby boy. You’re being so good. You’re such a good boy.”

Michael swells with pride, a balloon of confidence expanding in his chest. He smiles and when he arches his back this time, it’s because he wants to show more of himself. He wants Geoff to touch every bit of him, to tell him how good he is. He preens, and then remembers there’s still a step before the big bang.

Geoff’s fingers are salty and rough and Michael can’t help but suck on the two he’s slipped into the boy’s mouth. He listens to Geoff’s low laugh and grins, opening his mouth wide as his boyfriend carefully places the gag between his teeth and fixes the strap against his skull. Michael tests it, squeezing his jaw. It’s sturdy, but bends just a little under his pressure, and it tastes just like he imagines a new dog toy would taste. A zap of arousal shoots through him at the thought and he tries to laugh, only pressing spit against the rubber.

“How about I warm you up?” Geoff murmurs, and Michael knows he doesn’t need to respond.

Geoff’s weight dips the bed behind Michael. His hands find the soft skin of Michael’s thighs, leaving long, thick red lines up his legs and onto his ass. He dips down, sitting on his feet and spreading Michael’s ass apart to reveal even more of him. He doesn’t know how else to expose the boy, but if he could, he would. Michael’s breath is coming even and deep and Geoff strives to change that, burying his face into his ass and tonguing at him until they’re both wet with saliva. He can already press his tongue into Michael - the boy is more relaxed than he anticipated.

The groans and whimpers Michael usually makes are muffled. His breathing is hitched, but not panicked. Geoff listens closely to Michael’s body, feels his posture when it changes, glances away from making him squirm to check what he can see of his face. His baby is being so good and Geoff flushes with pride, sinking teeth into one side of his boy’s ass. Michael whines, long and restrained, and leans his hips forward.

“Baby,” Geoff laughs. “That’s nothing.” He nips again, and then bites hard on the other side, overcome with heat as Michael tilts into his mouth this time. Geoff sits back onto his feet again, rearing a hand back and slapping over the bright red mark he’s left. Michael gives a surprised muffled yelp, but he doesn’t lean away anymore. He stays still and attentive, waiting for the next blow. Geoff spanks his other cheek, watching the splotched red pattern blossom as he repeats the motion again and again. It becomes a rhythm and Geoff is aching inside of his jeans, rock hard and pulsing with each smack.

Geoff disappears from the bed, grabbing the flogger from the desk again. He whips it in the air, a dulled crack startling Michael so he hisses through his gag and his face turns toward Geoff.

Leather braids brush Michael’s skin. He flinches, but just a little, preparing for a blow and surprised by a gentle, tickling sensation. Geoff holds the braids out firmly against Michael’s ass, then sweeps them to the side. He does this a couple more times, using the demonstration as a tool for accuracy and for preparedness, watching Michael’s reactions.

“That’s where it’s gonna hit, okay? Squeeze if you’re ready, baby.” His hand finds Michael’s palm, fingers brushing the sweat-moistened skin. He waits the moment that it takes for his baby to think it over, to prepare, and then he feels the tightness of his fingers around his. “We’re gonna start light.”

Michael knows he’s tensing up. All of his muscles are tight as he waits, as he feels the air against his skin because it’s all he can feel right now. Cold air and anticipation. He can hear Geoff’s movements, hear him calculating the way he does when he needs something done perfectly. He swells inside, hoping and praying that he can be perfect for him. 

The first blow isn’t bad at all. Michael’s groan is more of a shout against the gag and he isn’t sure if it’s the gag or the mattress that muffles him so much. The stinging blossoms on a decently small section of his ass, and he is suddenly appreciative of the way Geoff whips the leather away from his skin right after the impact. There’s no wandering wounds on Michael’s thighs, nothing to worry him. He feels Geoff’s fingers in his palm and loosens his hand, needing the next crack against his ass as quickly as possible.

Geoff takes his cue, sliding off the bed and into his position, rearing his hand back. He takes careful aim and swings more weight behind the second blow, watching red lines appear as he reels the whip away with just as much control as he has on the downswing. Michael’s moaning into the rubber, wet and low, and Geoff gives him a brief moment to rest before throwing his weight behind the third swing. He watches Michael’s toes curl, his back arch, his fingers shake. But most of all, he watches the blush of his ass grow and spread.

It’s time for another check in after two more smacks. Geoff places his hand into Michael’s and the boy doesn’t squeeze, so he trails his fingers over the small of his back, pressing against his ass and venturing down until he’s teasing his balls gently. He takes Michael’s cock, hard and dripping with precum, and strokes him a few times with just as much lightness.

“You love this, don’t you, baby?” Geoff asks. “You wanna be used, huh? You want daddy to make you hurt.” Geoff doesn’t expect a response, but Michael’s dick pulses as an answer. Geoff’s grin is wide and he’s freshly renewed, adjusting back to his position and taking aim. When he reels back this time he’s barely holding back, and the thud against Michael’s ass is joined by the boy’s cry. Geoff gives it a few seconds before the repeat, and Michael is louder than his first this time. Again.

Geoff counts five blows before he checks in again, tucking the handle of the flogger into his jeans so he can place one hand in Michael’s and the other on his ass. He teases at his hole carefully, avoiding the whip’s kisses as best as he can. Michael is pliant under one finger, and he strokes his back as he presses into him just a little, testing. He can see Michael’s face, his head turned and nostrils flaring with every breath. Drool is escaping from the corners of his mouth, wetting the bed beneath him, and when Geoff moves around his body he realizes Michael is crying too. He pulls his knuckle from Michael’s ass, running his other hand over curls dabbled with sweat, and squeezes his arm before going back to the task at hand.

“Five more for now, baby boy.” Geoff murmurs, because every time he rears back it takes concentration to not be blinded by lust for how beautiful Michael is. Red and wet and focused. He takes his time with the last set, paying close attention to the way Michael’s gutteral moans sound like his name, the way his shoulders and neck are flushed to nearly the same red as his ass, the way his freckles are stark and clear on his pale, pink back. “God, you are beautiful. You’re beautiful, baby boy. You’re such a good boy.”

Michael is close to done. But the praise sweeps him up in an endorphin rush, which he’s so sure has nothing to do with the stinging exploding over his ass and everything to do with the ‘good boy’ he can barely hear over the waves in his head. Everything is overwhelming. Every time Geoff touches his thighs, every time he fingers his asshole, every time he plants soft kisses, every time he whips him hard with mindblowing accuracy, Michael is rushed with static through his bones. The shock is replaced by heat immediately and he has a moment of warmth to suck in the drool and the scent of the wet sheet before he is sent back through the air again.

Geoff’s hands are all over Michael after the last flogging. Michael can barely separate the buzzing inside his body from the zips of Geoff’s fingers over his spine and his thighs. His wrists are let free and he sinks them into the sheets, as if he’s falling through them. His ankles are next and he is rolled over gently onto his side, met by Geoff’s hands on the side of his wet face. He’s sharply aware of the drool all over him, of the sharp stinging on his ass, the pulse of his dick. Geoff is careful with removing the gag, stroking at Michael’s temples and over the indents on his cheeks.

“How do you feel?” He whispers, and Michael sucks in a shuddering breath before he’s able to answer. Finally his blindfold is tugged away from his face and the rush is incredible. The light blinds him and he blinks, leaning into Geoff’s shoulder. “That good, huh?” Geoff’s voice is tinged with concern, and Michael scurries to comfort him.

“No! God, I just… my head is reeling. I can’t… I can’t think.” They’re quiet for a moment as Michael realizes he may only need a few strokes to cum - he’s straining and he’s overwhelmed. But god, he isn’t worried. The stress has wasted away, forgotten and put into perspective. He feels _good_. He wants to tell Geoff all of this, but he smirks against his boyfriend’s neck because there’s still one restraint that needs to be released. “Daddy, I still need you.”

“Mm?” Geoff hums against Michael’s ear, and he feels the boy’s hips rock against him. “Ohhh.”

Geoff takes Michael’s cock into one hand, stroking his length slow and sweet, sending shivers up his middle. He’s longing for Michael’s touch, too, cock still tight against his unzipped jeans, but this is about his baby letting go. Trusting. Michael is wet with precum, and he starts to whine with little stimulation, his voice high and needy with every pump. He bucks into Geoff’s hand, unafraid to reveal how much he wants him, how much he can’t control himself. Geoff’s pace picks up in response, and Michael finds himself climbing up over him, leg swinging over to his other side.

Normally Michael holds back. He questions every move and waits for Geoff’s command. But he’s free - he’s confident in every aspect. He’s equal to Geoff, the only person he’s ever strived so hard to please.

Michael fucks into Geoff’s hand, the tip of his cock pressing into the man’s stomach with every thrust. He lets his forehead rest on one tattooed shoulder, sweat dripping from each temple. A hand finds his hair and holds on, tight in the curls, comforting in its solidity. Every inch of Michael’s body is stunned - he feels almost still as he pumps into Geoff’s palm, like the whole world is moving around them and they’re motionless. Peaceful.

His orgasm comes with a strained cry, with tears and with teeth against skin. He cums hard, whole body pressed against his boyfriend, whole being wrapped up in his comfort and his control. The only hint that he’s been holding his breath is his sudden, sharp, intake of breath that is followed by a cracking sob. His collapse into Geoff is met with arms wrapping tight around his torso, fingers pressing into his back.

“I wanna make you cum, I wanna- I wanna make you feel like this.” Michael whimpers through his breakdown, unable to lift his face from Geoff’s shoulder.

Geoff shushes him softly, running thick fingers over his back so it’s like he’s never not being touched. “You will, baby.” He answers, rolling Michael carefully off of him and back onto the bed. He makes sure he’s on his tummy, petting his shoulders as he climbs off the bed. “Later, okay?”

“That’s not fair! That’s not how it works!” Panic is fluttering inside of Michael from some unknown territory. He was in utter serenity moments ago and now he feels like he’s sinking into a pit. “Daddy, please!”

“You will! I promise. I promise you, baby, you will after I take care of you, okay?” Michael’s eyes are red as he peers up from the mattress, burying his embarrassed face into his arms. He nods, once, and quickly, and Geoff gives him a long stroke over his hair and his back as a reward. “Stay here.”

Michael can’t imagine moving. He watches Geoff disappear into the bathroom and then shoves his face into his arms again. Deep breaths steady him, and he’s able to feel the minute details of his body again. The shivering of his hands, the ache in his shoulders, the burn of his wrists and ankles. And god, the sting of his ass. Once he thinks of it, it’s impossible to ignore and he wishes he could stand in front of a mirror and check out the red lines and teeth marks that’ll turn into bruises later.

The sound of a bath being drawn pulls him away from his thoughts and Michael lifts onto his elbows, catching sight of Geoff as he approaches.

“Is that for me?”

“That’s for you.” Geoff taps Michael’s sides, rolling him very carefully onto his back. “C’mere.” Michael hisses as his new marks touch the sheets, but he lets Geoff curl his arms under his knees and securely behind his back - lets him lift his body into the air. Geoff carries him toward the bathroom, the smell of lavender perking Michael’s curiosity as they pass the threshold.

“Will you get in with me?” Michael asks quietly, tucking closing into Geoff’s arms.

“Mhm. What’re you worried about, baby boy?”

“Nothing, daddy.” Michael murmurs. “I’m not worried about anything.”


End file.
